


Dark

by givemesomewings



Series: 1+1 [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemesomewings/pseuds/givemesomewings
Summary: The long tails of a trench coat sliding out of the bar’s entrance. The line of those shoulders was something Frank would recognize even under all those layers of clothes.
Relationships: Frank Castle/Matt Murdock
Series: 1+1 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137212
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66
Collections: Fratt Week





	Dark

**Author's Note:**

> So, here’s my too-late, final contribution to Frattweek. Submitted at midnight on Amnesty day. Hopefully it’s not too late, and everyone can still enjoy the fic in its unbeta’d state.
> 
> The timeline for the NMCU has been fudged a little bit for the purposes of this fic. The Punisher S1 takes place in between Daredevil S2 and the Defenders. And The Punisher S2 takes place around the same time as the Defenders.
> 
> It was also very loosely inspired by the song “She’s Not Him” by Miley Cyrus.
> 
> *
> 
> This fic takes place in an alternate version of The Punisher S2E1. Frank thinks he sees Matt in the dark corner of a bar in Michigan, forcing him to rethink a few decisions he’d made in the past.

Frank had seen him. He knew he did.

It was only for a second. It was dark as hell in the cramped space and he had more than a couple beers in him, but Frank knew what he saw. The long tails of a trench coat sliding out of the bar’s entrance. The line of those shoulders was something Frank would recognize even under all those layers of clothes.

It had to be him. Red. But in Goddamn Michigan of all places? How the fuck did that happen?

“Frank?” the woman- Beth- said. “You doing alright over there?”

She had the sweetest smile on her face when she asked. She was leant over the bar, her inked-up arm outstretched so that she could place her hand over his.

Warm brown hair rolled down her shoulders, framing her beautiful face just right. Hair that had felt so good, so familiar, tangled up in his hands just last night. But now the memory felt oddly like a betrayal.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, sweet-,” Frank caught himself. “Beth. I’m fine,” he finished lamely, doing a piss-poor job of covering his ass if the look on the lady’s face was any indication. “I just gotta take care of something.”

“Wait!” she called after him but there was no stopping Frank at that point. “Is something wrong?” Frank heard her ask. She was damned right there was.

He kept moving without answering her. He heard plenty of drunk idiots cussing at him as Frank knocked them out of his way on his path to the door, but he couldn’t have cared any less than he did right at that moment.

He needed to see Red. To... explain things.

Frank wasn’t a superhero like Murdock was. After he’d finished Russo, he was done. He was just done.

He and Lieberman had followed the line of shitbags until they got to the top of the food chain. Rawlins was in the ground and Russo was a brain dead circus freak. His job was finished.

But the world was still a shitty place. Always would be. Frank would help who he could when he could, but when he couldn’t that was someone else’s problem. Even after his mission was finished, he’d still had his own problems to deal with.

Frank learned to accept that he was a person. When he’d woken up in that hospital bed in a world without his babies, without the love of his life, he’d have given everything to be dead. To be nothing. Instead of whatever he was then. Instead of whatever he was doing his best not to be now.

But he wasn’t dead. He’d lived; for whatever reason, he had lived. And in this new life of his, he’d met people. Done things. Felt things.

Frank had found something he’d never thought he’d find in Matthew Murdock. Red had been an enemy, a partner, a soldier, a friend. There was so much more to the man than he’d originally thought.

And the thoughts Frank would have when he was with him; when they were alone together. He was man enough to admit that they scared him; though not man enough to do what he’d needed to do. To say what he needed to say.

Red had been there for him from the beginning. They’d gotten off to a rough start, and Frank had hated him for it then, but he’d since realized that Red’s heart had always been in the right place.

Though Frank still maintained that his hatred for the man was valid at the time. Red was very annoying. He still is. And self righteous. And stubborn, but he and Frank both had a little of that in them.

From the graveyard, to that Goddamn trial, to everything that came after, Red had been there. He’d somehow shown up every time Frank could use another hand on his ops, sometimes without Frank even reaching out to to him. Anytime Frank even thought of stepping foot in Hell’s Kitchen, Murdock seemed to sense him or some shit. Those ears of his and whatever other super powers Red had, always seemed to do the trick.

And even though not killing assholes on occasion took more than a little getting used to, Frank could manage it if it meant that Red could stick around and do his ninja shit for a while longer. He could manage it most of the time, anyway.

But Red still had his own shit to deal with; Fisk’s leftover goons and his gang of drug lord buddies, Murdock had even teamed up with that bulletproof guy from Harlem a couple of times. He’d done his damndest to help Frank when he could, but it just wasn’t possible sometimes. And Frank didn’t need him so much as he could just use the extra hands, but he knew that he’d focus better knowing that Red was safe with him and not dead in a ditch somewhere because he refused to take proper care of himself.

But it worked out. Red handled his shit and Frank handled his. Frank actually preferred to be alone in the end. Who knows what Russo would have tried to pull had he considered Red a potential threat, or sensed any kind of connection between him and Red. Even Lieberman’s big mouth had pointed out that it was obvious the two men cared about each other.

Frank knew there was no way the punk could know exactly how much he cared for Red, even though Frank could tell David had his suspicions. There had been a couple times that he’d gotten close to hinting at it, but Frank had shut him up every time with just one look. Goddamn spook.

It had only been a few times but, fuck, those few times were... something. It seemed like the more he and Red butt heads on the field, the closer the two of them got. All that adrenaline pumping through their veins, Red’s lips, open and panting under that God awful mask. And his ass in that suit. Goddamn, that was a sight for sore eyes. He’d looked so good Frank almost didn’t want to peel him out of the halloween costume.

And it turns out all that acrobat shit Red did in the field translated fairly easily to the bedroom. Well, they had done it in a bed once after a stakeout at some roach motel, but they’d usually stuck to dark rooftops. That didn’t matter to Frank, though.

He didn’t care where they did it so long as they did it at all. Red was like a fucking pretzel. Most times, Frank felt like he was in a yoga class or something.

They had fun together. Goddamn, it was more than fun. A hell of a lot more than fun. The feelings Frank had when he touched Red, kissed him, fucked him; hell, the things he thought when they were fighting next to each other. Watching Red kick in some guy’s teeth, break another one’s nose, and probably give a third guy a concussion all in the span of three seconds. That shit was breathtaking.

But it was too much. So, after he’d gouged out Rawlin’s eyes and torn Russo’s pretty mug to shreds, Frank had to leave. He had to. New York held too much pain. It was a war ground. One big graveyard. And he needed to figure out who he was when he wasn’t fighting a war. When he wasn’t mourning.

It was Curt’s advice, not his. But as usual, his brother was right on the money. Frank figured he’d take his advice, for once.

Page had found him when he was packing his bags. Showed up at his hole in the wall apartment out of the blue. She saw on the news that there’d been a shoot out at the carousel and knew immediately he was involved, but she said she’d wanted to talk to him anyway.

She was upset that he was leaving; more upset that he planned to leave without saying a fucking word to anybody. That woman was a walking ball of rage when she wanted to be. Frank wanted to ask about it, but he thought better of it. He gave her Curt’s card and told her to give him a call. And then he asked for a favor.

***

“Say goodbye to Red for me.”

“Who?” she asked, blue eyes still glued to Curt’s contact info. They darted up at him, her eyebrows low and menacing. Frank found the look somewhat endearing, but he’d never let her know it. She’d kill him just for thinking it. He forced down his smile and answered the lady.

“Uh, sorry. Murdock. Tell Murdock I said goodbye.”

“Oh.” She stuffed the card in a purse that had everything but the kitchen sink tucked inside. Frank did smile then, remembering the hand cannon she had buried in there somewhere. She’d be safe without him. She could take care of herself without him or Red around.

She smoothed her hands down her skirt then plopped down on the edge of his bed; the only seat he had to offer in this shithole. Then she wiped the smile clean off his face.

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

“Busy,” he grumbled. “Gotta be outta here by sundown.”

Karen passed him the few pairs of pants he had as he stuffed the rest of his shit into a few duffels. She then handed him a couple of his drawers, smiling a little as Frank snatched them and threw them into his bag. He was absolutely not blushing.

“Well,” she sighed, standing up slowly from his cot. “I’ll tell ‘Red’ goodbye for you Frank. As my parting gift to you,” she said, every bit as sarcastic as she could be. “But I think he’d rather hear it from you.”

He stared straight ahead, not letting his face give away a damn thing. She sighed heavily and spoke up again when he didn’t respond.

“You know,” she said, a little bit nervous. It wasn’t a great color on her. “Matt... told me about the two of you.”

Frank’s hands froze for a half a second before he kept right on packing. Eyes glued to the neatly folded tee shirts and sweats. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Ugh, Frank.” He could hear those eyes rolling. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not... mad or anything.”

“Didn’t think you were,” he half lied.

He and Karen definitely had a connection. From the first time they’d laid eyes on each other, he liked her. And she liked him. At the very least, she understood him. Even more than Murdock had, in the beginning. They were close. But it never materialized into anything romantic.

It was no one’s fault. Things just hadn’t happened that way. And that was just fine with Frank. And he figured it was fine with Karen, too. He was glad he was right.

“Then why not be honest?” she leaned in. Her arms were crossed as she dipped her head, trying to get him to meet her eyes then giving up on it.

“Just so you know,” she turned and took a few steps away from him before stopping, heels clicking loudly on his too-thin floors, “he didn’t just volunteer the information.

“I stopped by his apartment when pictures of The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and The Punisher together were posted online,” she said. “I thought you two were fighting each other and when I saw that he’d had more cuts and bruises than usual, I figured I was right.”

She was pacing slowly as she talked, Frank focusing on those clicks to distract him from whatever point Karen was trying to make. He refused to face the woman just yet. He couldn’t.

“I cornered Matt and demanded he tell me who you were trying to kill and if you were as badly hurt as he was,” she continued. “He wouldn’t tell me. Even when I threatened to call Foggy, he stayed quiet. But then, I noticed a lot of his bruises looked... suspicious.”

She stopped and Frank could feel those baby blues burning a hole in the back of his head. He sure as shit wasn’t turning around now. He was blushing in his Goddamn hands.

Another sigh. “He told me you two weren’t fighting and that you were working together, which I had more than enough trouble believing. But Frank, the man’s entire torso was covered in hickeys.”

Frank stopped breathing. Karen seemed to be doing just fine though, since she kept right on going. He felt like a kid with his hand caught in a cookie jar, being read his rights by his all-too-calm Ma.

“He tried to play it off, but he’d answered the door shirtless so he didn’t really have a leg to stand on.”

Frank dropped his head, letting it hang in surrender. Red was a lot of things, but smart wasn’t always one of them.

“Plus, the man’s entire neck looked like he’d been pretty severely choked and it was covered in bite marks. Unless Matt was fighting a vampire, I’m pretty sure-“

Alright. That’s enough.

“Alright, Page,” he said finally. “Enough.”

He turned to face her. She nodded, brushing a few loose strands behind her ear.

“Look, Frank,” she swallowed. “Like I said, I don’t care what’s going on between you two. You’re both grown men and what you do together is your business.”

“You’re right.”

“I know I am,” she said, meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. “So, as a grown man, you need to handle your own shit.”

She strode toward him. Looking him right in the eyes and placing a hand on his shoulder. A little of the tension he hadn’t even noticed was there slowly melted away.

“I know this type of thing, relationships, is hard for you,” she said. “But Matt’s had enough hurt in his life. Especially recently. If you have to walk out on him, at least tell him to his face.”

When Frank said nothing she kept going. “I don’t know if this thing between the two of you is serious-“

“It’s not,” he interrupted her.

“Then tell him that, Frank. Just talk to him,” she sighed. “I’ll let him know you’re leaving. But please-“

“Talk to him,” he nodded curtly. “I’ll think about it, Page.”

She nodded slowly, chewed on her lip for a second, then threw her arms around his neck. “Bye, Frank.”

He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed right back. She felt so tiny in his arms. “You never told me where you were going.”

“Don’t know,” he said into her hair. “I’m just gonna drive. I’ll stop when it feels right,” he shrugged.

“Sounds about right,” she breathed the words right into his chest. She pushed off of him and grabbed her purse from where she’d dropped it on the floor. She clicked towards the door, opened it and stepped outside. She looked back one last time.

“See ya around, Castle.”

She closed the door and that was that.

***

Frank never did speak to Red. He couldn’t. Murdock had been an escape from his never ending suffering. One of the few lights in his life. But in the end, he was still a reminder of his past. It was kind of a wrong place, wrong time, in the worst way possible kind of thing.

He needed to know who he was without the murder and the mayhem. Maybe there was a man, a real human being beneath all of the death life had thrown at him. Maybe there was nothing at all. Whatever he was, he had to figure it out. And he couldn’t do that with Red.

It’s not like Murdock would ever leave Hell’s Kitchen, anyway. Or so Frank had thought.

It was so damn dark in that bar but Frank knew what he saw. Had Red really traveleld cross country, and tracked him to some backwater dive bar 500 miles away from his hometown? Or maybe Frank was an arrogant piece of shit to think the man would go so far for him.

And if Red had actually left the kitchen, had he come this far just to see Frank coupled up with some woman? A woman who didn’t really mean anything to him in the grand scheme of things. Fuck. He just needed to talk to the man. Whatever Frank ended up saying had to be better than what Red was thinking.

Frank finally made it outside the bar. He took a few steps then heard a loud crunch under his boots. He crouched down and found a pair of red shades mangled in the gravel of the bar’s parking lot.

Goddamn. He was here. And he ran when he saw Beth. Fuck.

“Red,” he said, softly at first, hoping Murdock could hear him from wherever he was. “Red!”

No answer, at least not from the one person he wanted to hear.

”Frank, are you alright?” Beth was behind him. It felt like she’d come out of nowhere. Or maybe Frank was more drunk than he thought.

”There was a guy,” Frank’s eyes darted around the parking lot before he looked down at Beth. ”There was a guy. He ran out of the bar and then he came out here. Did you see him?”

Beth laughed, a small nervous one. She must’ve thought Frank was off his rocker. Maybe he was.

”A lot of guys come in and out of this place,” she said, rubbing his arm soothingly. “I think you need to sit down. Come back inside for me?”

Frank resisted the urge to snatch his arm out of her grip. He just exhaled heavily before nodding a couple times. Was he really losing it? Fuck, he was a little lightheaded.

”Yeah, alright,” he grumbled. He stuffed the shades into his pocket and let her lead him back inside of the bar.

Beth was good for him. She meant well. Maybe here, with her, is where he was supposed to be. Just for tonight.

And maybe he was being a little crazy. A lot of people wore shades, right? Plenty of assholes were wearing them now, despite it being damn near midnight. Hell, he’d probably been fooling himself from the start. He’d keep an eye out for Red, maybe look for him once he got his head on straight. But the more he thought about it, the more hope he lost.

As he was placed on a bar stool in front of Beth’s station, he ran his fingers back and forth over the red lenses, and pretended that every time she placed her warm hands on his free one, that they belonged to someone else.

He said a quick prayer to a God that he didn’t believe in, and lost himself in the music of the live band; letting pleasant memories of a man in Red wash over him as he did so.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i hope i did the characters justice. 
> 
> hmu @maniskordaze on twitter & tumblr!


End file.
